But like remorse the prairie grass seeks emptiness, increases in its sleep, gets even with the fragrant, stoic sage. Oh, it is witless and blind. It cannot remember what it was doing with all that wind. It waits for a thimbleful of rain. It populates such distances it must be brave but prairie grass bends down in sorrow to be so lost, and like remorse feels so nearly endless it cannot ever stop. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GUILIELMUS REX by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH TETHYS' FESTIVAL: SHADOWS by SAMUEL DANIEL MOUNTAIN PICTURES: 2. MONADNOCK FROM WACHUSETT by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER OUR MASTER by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER SHEARERS'SONG, FR. KING RENE'S ROMANCE by GORDON BOTTOMLEY MY DWELLING by FRANCES HALLEY BROCKETT TO HENRY WRIGHT, OF MOBBERLEY, ON BUYING THE PICTURE OF F. MALEBRANCHE by JOHN BYROM A HARROW GRAVE IN FLANDERS by ROBERT OFFLEY ASHBURTON CREWE-MILNES |